Happy Birthday to Corinne

On this day in 1915, my grandmother Corinne Carey was born in Washington, D.C. Were she still alive, she would be turning 96 today. We used to commiserate on quite a few items: we both were/are Christmas babies (my birthday arrives in just a *few* days, in fact); we both were/are the eldest sister; we both were/are on the tall side; we both love/loved art. Little-known fact: I carry her name as my own middle name.

I do find it a bit funny that I have never forgotten her birthday, but can’t seem to ever remember my parents’ wedding anniversary, which happens to be sometime in December as well. (I suppose my mother finds this less funny.)

Important things I learned from my grandmother:

Red lipstick is never, ever, EVER wrong.

It is important to always smell pretty. Even if you end up wearing enough perfume to knock out your entire family.

Always have your hair done. By someone else. Twice a week.

It is acceptable parenting to get all gussied up with your sister and then put your children to bed, telling them that you and their aunt are just going sit on the porch and “chat.”

Drinking beer from the can can definitely be ladylike.

Let your husband have his hobbies. As long as he keeps them in the garage.

From Corinne, you should take bit of a devil-may-care attitude with a healthy dose of no-nonsense. A perfectly polished party girl who didn’t take no guff from nobody. She was a proud mother, a loving sister and a grandmother I miss dearly.